Note: I apologize for the long break. Sometimes time is not in my corner. Also I have bunch of stuff written in ink and they were in disarray of single pages and post-its. I did not know what was there so I had to put it in word. That took a bit of time. This story is rated M and not just because of my latin. I will change direction a bit and it will get darker. I know some are probably waiting for the steamy scenes. I do have them planned, actually at least one is already written, but patients. I will change my angle a bit. I think it is needed. Also I see different views of who should be Jo's male friend and I had someone in mind from the beginning so I hope you will forgive me if this was not who you were rooting for. I am interested on who you think it should be. I don't think I will change my direction, but it might provide me with ideas. You know the characters: Yin, Seth, Kai, Doc, Adi, Var, H'dla-de. I'm doing a survey
Also if you see bold letters you know it is yautja speaking in their language. Jo can understand, because of the translator unless I say otherwise.
Chapter 15: Deadly Misinterpretations
For the entire afternoon Jo decided to mess with Doc and Adi about their ooman findings. She has been fed up of being their little pet project. Jo never got to go to the beach on Arka, which was really partially her fault, but nevertheless she'd been sulking ever since. Joanna woke up from the drunken state already in space. Since then Jo's time was occupied with Doc's and Adi's experiments. Most of them were on the lines of subject questions. Today they tested Jo's sensitivity to temperature. Nothing extreme, they were interested in the minimum rather than maximum perception. She decided to have a little fun. Jumped at moment she felt nothing, sat immobile pretending she can't sense a damn thing when the stimuli was at its highest. She said cold when it was hot and hot when it was cold. They'd catch on at some point and would have to start over. It was still better then training with Seth.
The exercise routines they engaged in were always about Seth showing her that he was stronger as if it still required any confirmation. He also acted a bit strange. Nothing major; Every time he won their little 'spar' he would linger longer before releasing her. She also caught him staring from time to time. From the training Jo got nothing of use, except maybe for the confirmation that she will never be able to win over Seth in a physical match. The only advantage from the workout was her physique, rapidly getting trimmer. She has never been in better shape. Not even during military training.
Just at a time when Adi finally caught on her game of sensory cat and mouse and Doc growled irritated at the lost day of work, Seth rushed in.
"Go" Joanna wondered why, despite the translator he insisted on using basic, especially since he was not learning any new words.
"Since you ask so nicely, how can I refuse?"
They walked through the corridors and to her surprise it became clear they were walking in the direction of their quarters.
"So wa'sup?" Jo was sure they would be heading in the direction of the gym.
"Show you" Seth answered in his classic non-informative manner.
"Show me. Hmm… Aight"
As she suspected they walked into their own quarters. As soon as they entered Seth headed for the door that was always locked. Oh! Goodie! She was always curious as to what was inside. Joanna knew the lock was resistant to anyone that would try to pry it open; because she tried.
The access panel swished aside exposing the entrance and Seth stood on the side with his chest inflated; like that day she gave him a compliment on his sparring session. Joanna decided to go in and take a look at what got him all gloating.
The small cabin was filled with bones, mostly skulls. They were all mounted on two of the four walls. The third had weapons of various design. She looked back at Seth, whose massive form took the space of the door frame and wall number four.
"Seth, I heard about keeping skeletons in your closet, but I think this would classify as too verbatim"
In retort he cocked his head to the side in confusion.
"Oh sweetie! I'm no one to judge, but you need a different hobby. I mean taxidermy is better than this" She gestured all around her.
"Not like?" he thrilled as ever surprised.
"Like?" She choked "You are projecting a serial killer vibe here. I mean…" she broke and picked up a skull that looked distinctively human. She turned it in her hands, rubbed the unblemished surface with her thumb "this…um… is really well done and…you are very talented, but it gives me the mollies and I live with ya"
Seth kept quiet so she continued, putting the artifact back from where she took it stretching once again to her tip toes to reach the hook.
"…I mean …do you also keep eyeballs in jars?"
Seth deflated and looked even more confused. Speechless and for the first time he appeared defeated, or perhaps angry. Jo felt she might have offended her not so gracious host and took a stab at salvaging the situation.
"Ok, Obviously I don't know you all that well. I don't know what you are going to do with it all" she exhaled "Perhaps you are a huge fan of Halloween or plan to open a Museum of Natural History. What Im trying to say …whatever makes you happy"
Jo gave Seth a hearty and hopefully convincing smile and padded him on his upper arm with much less certainty. Then, she squeezed between him and the door frame desperately escaping the house of horrors.
No sooner than she was out she shook violently, turned back to say more, but Seth was already closing the door to his 'arts and crafts' galley and before she got to express any supplementary thoughts he stormed off, visibly upset.
That could have been handled better. She thought. Jo really was no one to judge on what yautja did in their spare time. Perhaps it relaxes Seth like knitting. She would have been much more at ease if her roommate's man cave was filled with sweaters and scarves.
Jo sighed and decided that she should talk to Adi about this situation, maybe find a way to apologize for the unintentional offense.
Ad'zin listened to Jo intently. At first he was stunned and disturbed. He has not suspected that such warrior as Setg'syra would have been interested in mating with an ooman. His sense of dismay followed, but when her story came to an end he could not control the chortle.
"What's so funny?"
How can he explain that with her misunderstanding of Setg'syra's intentions she not only rejected him as a mate, but also kept Ad'zin's flame of mating the ooman alive? In his attempt at luring Jo to his interest Ad'zin has not been as blatant as Setg'syra and therefore her disinterest was not formal. She also engaged more physical contact with him than she has with Setg'syra. The first time she padded his bicep with a delicate touch he nearly propositioned her further, but she also immediately occupied herself with another distraction. He reasoned that it might not have been suggestive. Yautja females touched males only when offended or aroused. She appeared to be neither. He added the information to his notes and stressed to navigate carefully as not to end up in the same situation as Setg'syra.
Ad'zin was aware that she did not truly reject Setg'syra, but purely misunderstood his purpose. It was also definite that Setg'syra was too senseless to know the difference. The only reason that Ad'zin, himself has not shown Jo his trophies was due to the fact that he had none, except for the recently acquired Kainde Amedha th'syra. Since she has killed the Kainde Amedha herself, in quite an impressive manner for her size, he just did not think it was enough to impress a blooded female.
Now he recognized that in his assumption Paya saved him the humiliation and retained hope.
He wished he could have seen the reaction of the cavalier male that does not hear h'ko very often and probably never from a female. And, to be rejected by an ooman must have been a bruising blow to Setg'syra's self-esteem. He continued laughing even louder.
"Adi!" she chided. "You're not helpin"
"He will survive Jo. No worries" That was all to tell. He was not about to explain the details and perhaps change her mind. He stood no chance against a seasoned, honored worrier as Setg'syra.
"No worries? You did not see him. He looked really hurt" Jo shook her head and leaned against the desk.
"No need for apology. He will be fine"
"If you say so…but I don't know"
"No worries. Give it time"
"Aight. You know that's twisted if you ask me. Why would he show me that?"
Ad'zin shrugged his shoulders; A very Pyode Amedha gesture and one most fitting. She smiled. He was not delving into the subject on Setg'syra's intentions.
Ad'zin needed to consider that Jo was not a yautja. That is why he wanted to lie with her. The process of courting would need to be incorporated in his study. He also realized that Setg'syra had no interest in science; therefore his intention was lascivious, possibly instinctive. That should also be considered.
After Jo departed from the lab Ad'zin decided to research ooman mating customs only to find nothing of use. He already knew ooman anatomy and found that the act itself was the same. What he needed was the information on what actions lead to the act. Setg'syra was a proud, nracha-dte male. He will not give up with ease. Even if his interest was purely a compulsion, with rejection that urge will grow stronger. Ad'zin needed to only observe Setg'syra's failures and adjust.
Jo wondered why Seth decided to bring her on this hunt. The shuttle thrashed violently during the landing approach and if not for being preoccupied with the thoughts of imminent death she would have been thinking of Seth's room of skulls.
That compartment was on her mind ever since she had seen it. Jo had considered the possibilities of an area devoted to Seth's acquisitions. Some of her thoughts were ridiculously idiotic others inestimably scary. The ideas that were silly she discarded and those that were frightening she refused to consider. People say that ignorance is bliss and perhaps for Jo it was exactly that. She also desperately tried to convince herself that what you don't know cannot hurt you.
Finally the shuttle's large hatchways opened and revealed a jungle. It was one just like on vids from Earth. Lush, nearly impenetrable vegetation erupted in her field of vision. What the vids did not incorporate was humid atmosphere that clung to her skin and the odor and taste of decay assaulting her senses. The shuttle was on a hill and in the distance Jo notices massive bedrock. The heat visibly swaying above it in the air. The wilderness choked every inch of personal space. She did not want to enter the habitat.
"Oghh… After that landing I thought I'd be glad to be on the ground"
Jo complained audibly swinging her head in every direction searching for Seth. Instead, she noticed Kai glaring at her.
"Bad landing?" he asked in yautjan.
"Yeah…I was wondering if we were shut down" She laughed "You've seen my roadie?"
Jo noted Seth approaching with the male whose sheer proximity provided a perverse sense of alarm. Kai leaned in. Jo jumped at the unexpected closeness. "Watch yourself ooman" he whispers. Jo was tired of the riddles. Was he warning about him or the male she was staring at that moment? She looked him in the eyes. Yautja's hated when she did that and usually reprimanded or threatened until she lowered her gaze.
"You smell of fear" he said instead.
"Smell?" Jo asked uneasy.
"Seeei-iii" he answered with a deliberate drawl, purposely provocative.
"What has happened on the landing Kai di'chak? I thought you to be capable pilot." Seth teased. Jo wide-eyed stared at Kai and exhaled. She managed to insult a lethal aviator. Now she was sure of the warning's source. Kai gave her a leveled look. "Unsteady movement of air in the atmosphere"
"I bet you juggle too or belly-dance or do fucking both. I bet you juggle while belly-dancing" Jo muttered under her breath.
For this hunting trip Jo only got to keep her shank which was unfair considering Seth was decked out in his usual war garb. To her surprise they separated and for hours she trudged on her own. It wasn't her idea Seth just simply stated they go alone.
It was not an easy hike. It was like walking in mixture of nature gone slightly mad. Vines drooping from the tall trees yearned for a neck to choke. The chaotic, soggy path tunneled through the jungle. At every step her feet sank into rotted branches and the muck. The thick foliage barred most of the sunlight and deprived of the sky itself. She kept on cramming her way through, slapping away veins blocking her path. Beyond the difficult terrain her senses warned that this entire field trip was in every way off beam, just purely wrong in a symptomatic kind of way. As if it was connected to that room once again.
Jo came to a clearing and halted. There was a man approaching. It was surreal. It was a male, five eight maybe five nine, dark hair, and most noticeably human. Jo pinched her arm just to make sure it was not a dream. For a split second she wonders if it would be possible that they landed on Earth, but before she gets to jump for joy she makes another connection; orange jumpsuit. He's a prisoner. Not just any prisoner. XM4 intertwined on the left breast plate is a design of Exitus Mortus, dead end. Then, she thinks this place might be Exitus Mortus, Ex-Mo for short. However, that is not possible either. Ex-Mo has no jungle. Ex-Mo was hell. Death was more civil.
Ex-Mo was reserved for the worst of human kind, home to notorious murderous and deviant sociopaths. How was this convict standing in front of her was another mystery. There was only one way to Ex-Mo and that was down. No appeals. A scape cruiser transported the prisoner and shot down a capsule. The convict is let loose to roam the ground of unforgiving lands of dry rocks, chilling winds and violent predators, and that counting out other convicts that somehow managed to survive. There were no escapees. An automated system shut down without prejudice anything that approached a landing. No one observed what happened on Ex-Mo. No one cared. No one ever came back, except for this guy.
Jo in her evaluation allowed the dangerous felon get too close. He smiles, but it is far from gentle. He says nothing, but his intentions are clear. Where is Seth? Wasn't he supposed to guard her or something?
Her only protection resided in the invented dagger from the Armanda thing. How ironic that my only defense against a prisoner is a shank. Since the tool was her only chance at resistance, she performs a blue-ribbon act; turns and runs. It doesn't take him long to catch up. The jungle conspires against the prey and aids the predator. The twines are thick and slow her down. He is bigger, they hinder him less. He's in every way physically superior. He is larger, stronger, and crazier. He has the advantage. He lounges, she ducks. The supply of marvel must have ran low, because he pins her down, takes her weapon.
Jo considers: How ironic that I will be killed with my own shank. They say that crazy people are much stronger, driven by the sheer power of mad. Well crazy people and monkeys.
She can smell the pungent odor of sweet, dirt and rotting teeth. His hand runs down her body and she curses the amazon clothing she was given. If she only had her army issued ones access would have been much more difficult. Hell, she had problems getting it off when she was floored. This getup provides no discretion. He shifts his weight and Jo tries to slam the back of her head into his face, hoping to break his nose. Instead, she hits his chin and he grunts and laughs. She starts trashing and suddenly he's off.
Seth lifts the man with one arm. Released Jo rolls to her back, inhaling steadily. Seth drops the man to the ground, putting enough force to break the man's nose and for a second she regrets she's not the one to do the latter. Seth, however, is not done. Her short term relief washes down. His hand breaks the man's back and he sinks his claws into the shattered lumbar curve, breaks skin, blood pools at the man's sides. He's screaming. Jo covers her mouth and Seth pulls the humans spine and skull with a grotesque slush. Joanna can't take the macabre and throws up, enriching the nearby soil of a shrub.
She turns her head in time to see Seth raise his trophy to the sky and roar in satisfaction. In Jo's opinion the man probably deserved to die. Nobody gets sent to Ex-Mo for selling girls-scout cookies. She was also assured of what might have happened if Seth has not showed up. But, who the fuck does that? She realizes that all this time she's been living with a true sociopath. She's been sharing her bed with a sadist. She was one of those people you see on vids that say that their neighbor was a really nice guy and they did not know that the dude practiced mass slaughter as his evening occupation; 'an IT tech by day, homicidal-maniac by night'. She was one of those people that explained their fondness for their neighbor, while the police excavated bodies in the background. Seth didn't even hide the bodies. He showed them to her. How could I be so daft?
Of course an almost eight feet tall, muscular, snake alien did not keep skulls for the next production of Shakespeare. She recalled all the brutal spars, the many trinkets she has seen on the others. The way they looked at her. She knew they hunted, but never assumed…humans. A species that welcomes grown males by having a killing ritual of an acid filled, double-jawed quarry could not be ordinary.
Why am I here? Was it so she could observe her own species get slaughtered? Why would Seth show me the galley? Or rather a morgue and not an arts and crafts shop. Oh god! It was a yautjan version of a chop shop. Her overloaded mind provided only one answer. She's here to be hunted like that crazy sap. The room of skulls was a warning. She killed one of those obsidian hounds and now she was a new target. That is why Yin did not want me. She reasoned. He did not need the connection to the creature he will hunt and kill. Seth was probably on a different level of homicidal. As soon as Seth stopped looking at her and sat on his calves Jo listen to the solid advice.
Run first. Think later.
She knows what she's up against. It's not only Seth, but half a dozen others; Three more from their ship and three from the other. Each yautja armed to the teeth. All decked out with that bitch ass heat-seeking mask and a personalized disappearing act. Each supplied with a remarkable sense of smell and incredible sense of hearing. She could have either disappeared or become untraceable. The former was impossible, but the latter she could at least try.
She cursed for not paying more attention to the hunting trips with her dad. Unlike her pursuers Trunians did not hunt for sports, but often from necessity. To lose her scent she needed water. You could not just jump in. It required more finesse than that, but it will help. This planet's wild life was too thick and alive to be absent of water depots. She ran or rather forcibly bulldozed her way through, hoping for one and pleading that no one followed because if Seth abandoned his new necklace all this was for nothing.
A spark of hope flickered with the sound of a stream. It is more than that. It was a river, waist deep and the current was mild. The slog gave plenty of tracks to follow, but it did not matter until she lost her scent. The Yautja would follow that instead and the flight was about putting as much distance between her and the large spinal-cord-ripping-aliens.
The jungle is dank and steaming, nearly asphyxiating and the cool water provides allayment. She swims downstream. The jagged surface of the riverbed is sharp beneath her feet. She doesn't go far. It is only a diversion. She jumps out marking every tree with her scent. She needs them to think she went this way so she breaks twigs and vines on her way, then takes the same path back and covers her returning tracks. Jo knows how good Yin is at tracking she's seen it, but this is not the time to surrender.
She dives back into the water and swims upstream as far as her body allows, pushing of the rocks. After getting out of the water, Jo rubs dirt, sticks twigs, leaves into her body crossing her fingers that none are poisonous. Looking like some woodling creature she runs around in a few circles to confuse anyone that would follow. Then, decide to get to higher ground. The heat of the rock formations there will confuse the body heat signatures. It won't be perfect, but she is also hopping it would be the last place they would want to look.
Rocks heats up in the day and takes some time to lose that heat. She cannot remove her body heat, not unless she's dead, but the objective was to avoid that. The boulders are her only chance. She needs to rest and to mix with other heat signatures. Hopefully the next day she can find a traveling pack of herbivores she can mingle with.
If she finds a cave among the rocks she might be able to stay there for a while. The knights could be cold or extremely hot, shelter was the first priority. After that, she will have to concern herself with possible heatstroke, heat lost at night, local wildlife, poisonous plant, dehydration, and hunger.
She was not working with much, but Jo needed to wait them out. How long will they be looking?
Three rotations passed and they could not find Jo. In the beginning Setg'syra believed he has lost the ooman. He followed the scent, but it led him nowhere near the Pyode Amedha.
To avoid losing any more time he swallowed his pride and petitioned Yin'thar for assistance. He was a better tracker. In no time Yin'thar stated she was not lost, but purposely hiding, eluding the search. It was hard to believe at first, but Yin'thar exhibited the remaining evidence of one losing a predator's trail. Setg'syra could not comprehend the reason for such behavior. Unfortunately, time passed, tracks were no longer fresh and more difficult to find. She also made it effectively more challenging with clever tactics. Just the other day, they have been following her scent only to discover it was not the female, but a local animal with a piece of her clothing attached to its paw. The scent was fresh and he knew that she was alive.
"Perhaps she requires hunting?" Kai di'chak proposed.
Setg'syra's responsibility was to prevent the ooman's death. With time running out he had no more choices, but engage others. They separated to cover a larger territory. It was not the best solutions. Not all favored the Pyode Amedha and may attempt to take her syra'yte.
Setg'syra gave his mei'hswei a pained look.
"Why would she run?"
"No time to dwell on why. She obviously does not wish to be found. I suggest starting from the origin and once again moving from there." Kai ci'chak was Setg'syra's last result. Yin'thar might have been a better tracker, but Kai di'chak was the better strategist. If he or Yin'thar missed an important clue Kai di'chak was sure to find it.
They began the search a new from the point at which he lost the female.
"When was the last time you seen her?"
"Here" He answered promptly.
"That is not what I ask." Kai di'chak answered smugly "I asked when? Was the sun at its peak? What have you been doing at the time she has left? At which point you lost her track?"
"It was late in the day. I took a trophy and when I finished cleaning it, she was gone."
"You are speaking of the ooman trophy you have taken?" Kai di'chak frowned. Yin'thar remained quiet.
"Sei-i"
Kai di'chak walked around the stained ground without diverting his attention to the other hunters. "Yin'thar, have you killed any Pyode Amedhas on Nar'raka?"
"H'ko" Yin'thar answered affixing his gaze at Kai di'chak as if unraveling his considerations.
"Why did you bring her to a game planet on a Pyode Amedha hunt Setg'syra?"
"I wanted to see if her species finds the female attractive and I wanted to show her that I am a better male. That I am a male worth mating" Paya knows he has attempted all other strategies. He has shown her trophies, challenged and demonstrated his vigor and strength. Yet, she has not agreed nor returned gesture of interest.
Kai di'chak raised his mandibles. "It did not work"
Yin'thar slumped as if comprehending Kai di'chak's deductions. Setg'syra dispossessed cognition. "I don't understand. How is it related?"
"She thinks you transported her here to be hunted"
"That is not possible. I have presented her my trophies. How could she misinterpret the intention?" Why did pyode amedha have to be so complicated and difficult?
"She is not a yautja. Misinterpretation is to be expected" Yin'thar added.
"She was not fearful. She has held an ooman th'syra" Setg'syra disregarded the notion of misunderstanding. It was not probable. He has been transparent with intention.
"She has?" Kai di chak wondered "Maybe she was not impressed" he added with an amused expression.
"Ell-osde' pauk! Kai di'chak! This is not helpful"
"Easy Setg'syra. I do not know why she has not appeared fearful. Pyode Amedhas lack reason. I do know that until your courting attempt she has not seen a yautja take an ooman life. I am quite certain she believes to be hunted and therefore needs to be hunted"
"She is not prey. She will not be hunted" She is blooded. Blooded members do not get hunted unless they are badbloods. She was not.
"What I am suggesting is not that we do hunt her, but that we find her as one would a prey"
"How do you know this?"
"I do not. Yet it is my trade to think as the one who runs"
It all was going well. Well enough for someone slightly dehydrated and hungry. All Jo managed to eat in the last few days was a bird she caught with a simple bait trap. The entire endeavor was not a picnic. Surviving while you have a water canteen, a decent pocket knife, thermal blanket, tent, sleeping bag, a box of matches and 'How to survive in the wild; for dummies' guide might have made things a bit more bearable. But, having nothing but a shank and a 'Sheena, Queen of the jungle' hooters outfit did not offer much in the aids department. This jungle was most difficult to tolerate even without the concept of hunting aliens. In midday taking a simple breath was alarming, and the concealed indomitable pests were fixed to leap bite or claw. The only positive was the fire. In the scorching heat in was not difficult to get a spark. She could not allow it to burn for too long to not give away her position.
Then she heard it, a steady methodic and purposeful shout. Not a terrified high-pitched wail, but a firm sound with a clear defined meaning: Help! The male voice carried through the jungle, bouncing of the plants with persistence, more determined than the wind. Jo did not know then what she was thinking, but sometimes when you hear a scream it demands an answer.
Before considering the possibilities, she ran in the direction of the sound. Stopped often when mislead by the echo. A jungle is mistaken to be a masterpiece of composition. It is not. It is a sonic environment with too many, perpetually moving parts. Bodies on the other hand without a solid constant of sleep, water, and food replenishments are slow not only in physical form, but also on the mental uptick. She exerts herself; rests to catch a lungful with pined, shallow gasps. Sweat pours down the middle of her back. The voice resonates again. Jo picks up on the yell and swallows the fatigue.
Finally she reached the source off the plea. The man, a young soldier hangs upside down in a noose trap. Jo's instinct drives actions. She reaches for the line. Presses with her blade to cut it, and catches a swish sound before she's swept of her feet with the force of the impact.
She hears a scream. It is pained, unceasing and defeating. Then, realizes it's her screaming. Her left shoulder blares in sickening agony. She looks at it and whimpers with the movement. Embedded in her left shoulder was a throwing star. The impact lacerates her rotator cuff muscle and roots itself within the clavicle. Jo sinks into the mud and slush of the ferns. She feels so tired. The blood oozes slowly, dripping down her arm into the sludge. Above her the chief advocate of wanting her dead stands like a legionnaire of the undergrowth.
Her vision swims, until loud thuds and then screams bring back her awareness. With consciousness Jo steps straight into the vault of Hades. This sight will remain burned into her memory for all time. Carnage meets her vision. The man's body hangs like meat in a slaughterhouse. His arms are missing and she recognizes them off to the sides. His skin is slowly removed without mercy by the yautjan butcher she's always dreaded and shunned. Her skin is clammy from putrid jungle floor. Uneasy smell of spring invades her nostrils and taste buds among the deep rancid stench of foliage and coppery smell of blood.
"Do you know what is wrong with the Yautja's today?"
The translator barely holds to her ear, covered in mud provides a muffled rendition. I have a list and still adding
"They lack power and determination; Weekly succumbing to emotional notions of comradely with a disreputable species. The thought to rut with such revolting… "
The boogeyman continues prattling, but she focuses on that bladed weapon cruelly assaulting her shoulder. Jo wraps her palm around it and pulls it out. It bites into her hand and sends an excruciating ache through the entire arm. She was told as a little girl that when you have something stuck in your flesh you should not yank it out, allow the doctors do it. In mining colonies accidents happen, little girls learn quickly. However, in this place there are no doctors, hospitals, nurses or paramedics. There is only a brutal killer, a carcass of once human man and suffering. Jo cannot move with the metal entrenched in the shoulder cutting and shredding with every motion. She forces herself to her knees and creeps through the muck, dirt and blood. From simple drops the blood flow turns into steady streams pooling a trail tallying to gore. She takes a breath of the hot almost caustic air as she reaches one of the man's severed limbs. She wrestles the gun of the fastened palm. It is not determination that drives her; it's not even a will to live. It is pure stubbornness and disposition to go for the gun.
"Where are you going?" She hears her nightmare above her snarl.
"You are nothing, but pest to our lives" He sneers, picks her up by the torn shoulder to face him, sinking his claws in her flesh. Jo lets out a tiny broken sob.
"Nothing, but prey to be hunted. We are stronger, smarter, faster."
"Are you faster than a speeding bullet?" Jo asks groggily as she presses the barrel of the gun between that emotionless mask and neck guard, positions the weapon up and pulls the trigger.
The tormentor's body slumps and she falls with him back into the sloppy jungle floor. She can hear nothing except for the ringing created by the blast of the handgun and even that fades. It's silent. Jo can hear the shimmering of trees, buzzing of the bugs, crowing of birds, fluttering of wings no longer. There is a soothing calm in the silence. The pain in the shoulder is gone as well. Her vision swims, turning the world in a miasma of shapes. She weekly lifts her head to see Kai.
Jo lifts the firearm she somehow continued holding. She aims, her hand trembles and she pulls the trigger. The first shot breaks the silence. The second produces a sound of a hammer when it delivers a blow to an empty chamber. Jo loses the hold on her gun and then loses the hold of everything else.
nracha-dte – relentless
th'syra – skull
lou-dte kale - child-maker
syra'yte – Head
mei'hswei - Brother